


Erstwhile

by Emejig16



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, M/M, Negative Thoughts, POV First Person, nondescript panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emejig16/pseuds/Emejig16
Summary: A vague story about getting better.





	Erstwhile

**Volatile** :

I am a ticking time bomb, bound to explode at any given moment. I am nothing more than a bundle of high strung nerves that is one tear away from snapping into a pile of overstretched rubber bands. You’d think with that much elasticity I would be resilient, but I’m not.

I want to break. I want to destroy. I want to _fabricate_?

I want to be more than the shadowy figure in front of me. Who are you? Why can’t you be better? Why can’t you be more? Why must you taunt me with empty eyes and wasted potential?

Tell me, what do you want with me?

I’ll hit you once and I’ll hit you again until you tell me. _Just tell me_. I won’t tell anyone except the night; you’re friends with the darkness right? That’s when you come to taunt me just like you’re doing now.

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up_! I can be more, I’ll show you and I’ll silence you. Just stop. Please stop. Shut up! Please I’m begging. Wipe away the twisted smile and make it go away, or I’ll do it.

I’m going to make you go away.

_“Oh Dan, what did you do?”_

The mirror is in pieces. My hand is trembling and is covered in blood and glass fragments. I whimper softly as I look at bleeding numb hand. My chest tightens and my throat is being gripped, the room is caving in and I can’t hear. _I can’t hear. I can’t hear_.

“ _Darling look at me_ ,” he says, placing his hands on my shoulders. “ _In my eyes right here_.” He sounds so far away. _“_ _Easy breaths, in and out. In…and…Out…”_

In….and out…..In……and…and…and….

I’m pathetic. Sullied shaking hands and the desire to be more is all I am.

-

**Haze** :

I feel lost.

I don’t know where I am anymore or what my purpose is. I’m nothing and I can’t do anything. I’m confused, but you’re saying words to me…words I don’t quite understand but are oddly soothing.

I think it’s understanding, but I’m not sure. I’m listless and stagnant. Not necessarily making progress, but not regressing either. I no longer care about being anything other than adequate, but my definition is so vague. I feel I’m letting you down.

You’re telling me that I’m getting better, but I feel no different. There are still times where I scream and cry, when I feel like I’m being smothered and I’m still nothing.

All I am is empty, with no desire to innovate…to think…to…to….

How long will I be like this? I still think I'm disappointing you, then again maybe I’m not. Your delicate touch keeps doing something to me as you give me gentle shoves. Something keeps rousing even though I keep stumbling.

Can I touch it? I can’t tell, it comes and fades. I want to know what it is: what is this thing that seems to be…festering? No…growing and what is its connection to you? And if this thing is here, why aren’t the pangs of pain gone?

What is happening inside of me?

-

**Phil** :

I found a new light twinkling at the bottom of my heart and a new fire in the right of my brain. My fingers are alive and the fog in my vision is receding.

I am scared.

I’m not ready for the world. I’m unsteady but intrigued. My essence as I have known it is melting, and behind it something foreign stands. You tell me these are my hands and I make great things but I don’t know what to do.

I am nervous.

I’m going to please you but my ideas are runny and I keep slipping up, but you’re telling me I’m great _…_ _I’m_ great _….I’m….great_?

I am great.

I’m standing amongst the world and radiance is falling from my lips and my brain is turning. I see you smile and my passion quakes. This is all me, I’m doing this. The stars are burning within me, giving the energy to be…to feel…to express.

I am a new light.

I have found a new light from a spark charged with Phil.

**Reawakening** :

I get it now.

I’m the same, but I’m different. I’m under control but I haven’t been bound down. To see life a new is to see yourself through a new lens. I still see my cracks, but I can see where they’ve been filled in.

Sometimes I feel and there are times I don’t but now I know.

I see the celestial energy in the purple bruises and see the golden light in my eyes. It feels strange to be alive, to feel vigor flowing my veins, and see that not all is lost. I have a lot of fragments and destroyed pieces, but I’m going to make a mosaic.

Just for you, a mismatched work of purpose.

I will feel the sunshine and acknowledge the starless abysses that may threaten to reopen.

Yet, I will be whole in a beam of composure.

My hands will sing, and I will see the graceful core that burns between us.

And when the flames start to die, I will rekindle the fire and try.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written January of 2015.


End file.
